My Roots

Mable "Mae" Blanch
Isn't she beautiful.
Such an amazing person. 

I started composing this post in October of 2010. I began the post and since have been continually adding to it. Perhaps it's a post that will never be completely finished.  

On July 13th, 2010 my aunt passed away. Sadly enough due to family conflicts I never knew her in the way that I would have liked to have known her. At various points in my life, the desire to grow closer to her would strike me, but I was my mother's child, and my loyalties had grown rigid. My mind and views were shaped early in life; too early! Over the years I think there were times both my aunt and I tried to foster a closer relationship.  And as I think back over the years I do have some endearing memories, just not as many as I'd like to have, as I should have. 

My father only had two sisters, one older than he (Florence) and one younger (Mae). Tragically my father's father died of Typhoid Fever, July 26, 1929 at the age of 31. My dad was only six years old at the time. My grandmother was an amazing woman. She was left with a farm and three small children to raise even through the depression. She was an incredibly spiritual person and after the passing of my grandfather, lived the rest of her life as a widow.  

This is one of the few pictures of my grandmother's family. My grandma Blanch is the young lady in the center. She is holding my Aunt Florence on her lap. My grandpa Wheatly Lorenzo Blanch, is the handsome young man in the middle on the back row. My father looked a lot like his father. To the right of my grandfather is my great grandma and grandpa Palmer. My grandmother's parents. 

Recently my cousin found a letter written by my grandfather.

None of us knew my grandfather went to Utah State.

If you have difficulty reading the letter, just click on it and 

you will be able to view a larger format.

Some of the pages here could not be displayed in the larger

size due to cropping that occurred along the right hand side

cutting the words off. 

(word inserted - must)

After reading this letter, how I'd like to meet and get to know my grandfather. I know he was a hard worker. I know he was handsome. People tell me he had a temper, yet after reading this letter, I'm not sure the description is entirely true. In thinking about it though, and in factoring in my own nature, perhaps there is some validity to it. LOL 

These pictures were taken at the cemetery, at the time of my aunts passing. My aunt Florence had four boys, my father had four girls. Together, the eight of us are the soul nieces and nephews of my aunt. My aunt never married although she came close a time or two, she chose to remain single. I'm sad that at the time these two pictures were taken my cousin Tom (who I love with heart and soul) had left to return home. From left to right, Mike, Philip, me, Carol and Nancy Phyllis.  Below, Philip, me, Carol, Nancy Phyllis, and David.

Ironically the boys were raised in more of a city atmosphere and us girls were born on the family farm that fell to my father. I think out of all the boys, Tom spent the most time with us on the farm. He was really more like a brother to us than a cousin. And today he only lives three quarters of a mile from me. I live next door to what once was the family farm.

As I think back over our lives I often wonder how differently things might have played out if there had been no conflict between my mother and my father's family. Many people in the beginning didn't think my parents were suited for each other. Who can say that notion is correct? Not me! What I see now that I am older is that harsh perspectives were shaped in rigid minds, perspectives that were often times biased and untrue. How differently things could have been if critical natures and judgmental attitudes could have been replaced with caring acceptance and welcoming kindness. Both sides were guilty of the same infractions.

Since my aunts passing my cousin Mike has been sending everything and anything so that we can come to know our ancestors better. I feel like a horse at a trough that hasn't had water in a long time. I can't drink enough. I have so enjoyed getting to know the beginnings of my roots. And I am finding much of what was shaped in my mind as a child changing and altering. In some regards I'm really learning who these people are for the first time.

This is my dad (Keith) and his sister Florence.

I had never seen my dad as a child until this picture.

Priceless.

As the genealogy comes in, I am compiling it in a book.
I can't wait to see myself through the eyes of these people who went before me.
I am surely going to discover much about who I am and where I came from.
I can't wait!